Tomorrow, my Love
by Ellisaed
Summary: Obi-Wan Kenobi receives his first solo task from his Master Qui-Gon Jinn at the finish of their mission on the hostile planet of Meronia. The Padawan nervously accepts the responsibility, little knowing of the hardship and struggle awaiting him deep inside the Meronian caves, present in the most unlikely of forms. *UPDATED*
1. Prologue

The sharp crack, like a thunderstruck, plucked nerves with its coarse undertone, hinting urgency anew in the boy. When it reoccurred, despite his misgivings, he knew it could not be ignored. Response was haggard through fatigued senses, pained muscles, aching bones, but it was a response nonetheless. The boy lifted his bowed head and braced arms to kneel, to watch longingly. He wiped sweat from his brow, feeling the pebbles tumble more frequently upon him, like the tears rolling down her cheeks. He reached and tucked her safely, closer to the embrace of the alcove, the soothing darkness and clay rich air. Nothing could soothe her, though. Nothing but him.

The youth touched her cheek. It was warm with fever and soft like the richest of Corellia's fine fabrics, smooth like a well-worn river stone. A hand extended and grabbed his own for dear, frail life, fail like the breaths he breathed. The other tiny hand was trapped, pinned beneath the weight of too many, unsavable. The stones had sealed her fate, and they would him too if he remained any longer. He could not stay, but how could he leave her?

The crack insisted her doom, the rumbling of the caves like a funeral knell. The boy ignored it for only a last moment, leaning close to the small ear, hushing the tiny pained wails and whispering the lullaby in an ever-so-soft nuance:

"So'ru ie lien

So'ru et lie

So'ru ie bien

So'ru ie bie

I'soru ie bien

Ie li'ru e li

I'caru ie bien

Bi'soru fie ri."

"With sorrow, I'll live

With sorrow, I'll die

With sorrow, my love,

Much sorrow, goodbye.

No sorrow, my love,

I give unto thee

Tomorrow, my love,

I will live then for thee."

A whimper was heard at his withdrawal, but he feared lingering would destroy him. He rose quickly, giving no more hesitation, fighting tears but failing. His heart tore like a fiercely strained muscle at the resounding crack, rocks tumbling around him in a rush of noise mingled with the faint cries behind him. He limped faster then, stumbling but pressing on angrily, until it went deathly, horribly silent. He turned to see the tunnel caved, enclosed completely with rubble and debris, boulders like gravestones then. The youth heard a strained, agonized cry, unaware it was his own, and it echoed in the very reaches of the caves and the corners of his crushed soul.

What had he done?


	2. The Task

Obi-Wan Kenobi shifted his lightsaber in his sweaty grip again, panting controlled breaths into the smoke veiled air around him. A blast heard in and seen touching down in the distance reignited Obi-Wan's anxiety that he fought to keep at bay, and he shifted his blue blade once more, turning to face the crowd behind him, "Stay close! Huddle as close as you can!"

The citizens quieted at his voice, passing the message along in whispers to those too far to hear the youth's exclamation, and communally stepped their haggard, starving bodies closer. Obi-Wan was discouraged at their visible fatigue, feeling his own begin to set in deeper, and hated how he treated them like a nerf herd. He fought to avoid the desperate eyes of the men, and though he was unsure himself, he called out reassuringly, "Help will arrive soon! Soon, you will be safe!"

Some nodded, other cursed and searched the sky like Obi-Wan had been doing, and continued to do. _Hurry, Master._

Through the obscurity of sky the orangey horizon spread out and hit the scarlet-black sky, tufts of cruel smoke clouds billowing and hiding the tiny setting sun. The smoke originated from the fires eating at the twig-like patches of trees, but truly fro the blasts still heard in the distance that was growing closer by the minute; ash and dust had become like a second skin to the boy, as well as sweat and humidity. The heat formed a covering blanket to it all, smelling of sulfur and fuel and smoke and fear. Most strongly of fear.

Out of the distance, four small cruisers were seen high above the haze just as one citizen let out a cry, and a round of relieved applause ensued. Obi-Wan waved his saber as a beacon, smiling to himself. _Better late than never, Master_.

The Padawan was glad their mission was nearly at an end; it had been especially harrowing, more so than expected, but he would have rather done it than attend a weeks worth of political meetings or benefit banquets. Obi-Wan felt his best at work with the people, as did his Master even more than him, and it was where he felt useful and skilled and needed.

Obi-Wan and his Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, had spent their last two weeks on the Outer Rim planet of Meronia, living with refugees under the oppression of a tyrant slave trader and mastermind by the name of Valor Quon. Their task had been to uncover his masqueraded plan to capture the citizens of the sparsely populated planet and sell them illegally on the slave markets of Tatooine. Quon, they had learned, was smart and also Force sensitive, so their escape strategy had required effort. Qui-Gon had mentioned that part of what made Quon so successful was his ability to sense beings and their intent, whether he was aware of his sensitivity of not. He had also mentioned, with a clever wink, that despite his ability, he was no match for the Jedi.

The two had been able to pinpoint Valor's attack date, with some help from a pieced together comm system, and were so far successful in the shuttling of refugees of planet before the attack was in motion. Republic forces had agreed to assist them, and had so far rescued half of the population; the remaining half, women and children, had been hidden safely high in the Meronian Mountains, in precaution to a thwarted plan. Though they had only a few hours remaining until the assault began, Obi-Wan was confident their mission would soon be accomplished.

Whipping dust stung on his skin and blurred in his eyes, picking up as the ships downed around them a few feet away; Obi-Wan waited for the tan pillow to clear a bit before seeing the Republic troops exit and go straight to work gathering the crowd and ushering them into the ships. A tall, broad figure emerged amidst them, waving a green blade to help the men along. Obi-Wan jogged toward him, holding high his own lightsaber and gathering group of citizens to follow.

Qui-Gon stood at the landing ramp, face drawn until he met eyes with Obi-Wan, and he smiled gently as he approached, greying tan hair whipping with the wind around him. He said over the commotion once the boy reached his side, "There you are." His deep tone had always brought a familiar comfort to the Padawan.

"Here I've been," Obi-Wan looked up slightly, as he always did, to his Master, wondering if he would always have to. Maybe not physically, but reverently. "Any outgoing transmissions detected?"

Qui-Gon denied such with a shake of his head, slipping his hands into opposite sleeves, "None that our scanners can pick up, not even encoded ones. It is a mystery how Quon has managed to evade us still."

"He is good at that, if anything." Obi-Wan followed his Master, clasping his hands together hidden in his long robes, "At least we have a bit of the upper hand, seeing that he is still in Hutt space."

"_If_ he still his, Padawan. All the men are here?"

Obi-Wan nodded, watching the throng of them slowly dissipate into the cruisers, most members grinning in relief at the end of their long struggle. It had not been a pretty situation, hundreds upon hundreds of refugees living in spaces meant for only tens, starved beyond imaginable and malnourished due to poor sustenance.

Obi-Wan hated to see beings in such state, knowing of the abundance of food he always had access to in the Temple, and how often he gripped about such. He wondered how amidst their drear they not only managed to endure but also made him feel their hopefulness just as bright as it burned in them. Such circumstances seen on missions put things into perspective for the boy, snapping him back to the reality of the galaxy and changing him inside.

Obi-Wan sighed, turning back to his Master, "I am glad this ordeal is nearly through."

"Not for long, unfortunately. The Council has already summoned us in our absence; another 'quarry' on Naboo needing to be handled." Qui-Gon rolled his eyes, and Obi-Wan asked the question in a dismayed tone, though he knew the answer.

"Politics?"

"Politics. A petty administrative gathering, I'm guessing, nothing a good argument cannot handle." The Master's statement was not entirely false, whether he realized it or not, "But that is then. Now, our current mission –"

"May I ask what took you?" Obi-Wan spoke lightly, though he truly did wonder what the delay had been - if there had been one.

Qui-Gon wrinkled his face a bit, blue eyes bright with mischief, "What do you mean, my apprentice? I arrived, didn't I?"

"Well, yes, but much after you informed me you would."

"Well, someone forgot to comm with the coordinates."

Obi-Wan smiled, "Well, someone else forgot the comm systems are down."

"Well, someone didn't inform me." Qui-Gon folded his arms, hardening his gaze on him and setting his mouth into a frown, "Now, thanks to you, Obi-Wan, we are behind schedule."

Obi-Wan was incredulous at his Masters frustration, "Are . . . are you scolding me?"

"Why do you ask?"

When no jesting leaked through the voice, Obi-Wan lowered his own, "Because it seems so."

Qui-Gon's stern expression broke into another grin, "Mistaken yet again."

Such teasing was not unexpected by Obi-Wan. He had well since grown accustomed to his Master's playfulness, his wit, present even in the most harrowing of circumstances. Why, just yesterday evening, caught in the freezing windstorm that had threatened their entire mission, huddled around a half-functioning space heater in a cellar filled with refugees, Qui-Gon had beckoned the frightened children around his feet and onto his lap and proceeded to tell them a story. Not just any story, of course, the story of the time Obi-Wan had been nervous about a particular Council meeting and had upturned the contents of his breakfast all over the floor.

Though told in broken, inexperienced Meronian, the young ones as well as the adults had giggled heartily, mostly at Obi-Wan's embarrassment. The Padawan had no choice but to laugh along, as he did then at his Masters tease; his headstrong, compassionate, unorthodox Master was not about to change anytime soon.

Qui-Gon's smile still lingered as he asked, "The women and children are still in the mountains?"

"Yes, as far as I know." Obi-Wan turned due north to point to them in the near distance, jutting up from the low cloud of dust surrounding them, "There are eight groups total: three east, four clicks, two west, one click, two south-west, one click, and two north, one click."

Qui-Gon gave him a look, "That's nine, my Padawan."

"Hm?"

"Nine groups."

Obi-Wan counted in his head quickly before pressing his forehead to his hand, the error making him flush, "Oh, I –"

"No bother." Qui-Gon chuckled, ruffling the boys spiky hair, "We have three or four, maybe five, six hours to gather them, and even more time assuming Quon will do a preliminary land scan first."

The Master's pause concerned Obi-Wan, sensing a contemplation in him as he scanned his surroundings. The Padawan was quiet, awaiting the words.

"Obi-Wan, you will go and gather them." It was a command, not a question, but Obi-Wan caught his Master's gaze for assurance.

"A-alone?" He stammered, and Qui-Gon only nodded, "My presence is still required here. I trust you're able to do such?"

"I . . ." Obi-Wan did not reply immediately. He did not understand. He was very much in awe, grateful at the gesture, His Master's trust was one thing he held the most dear, for Qui-Gon Jinn only extended such to a few souls, but this was the first time Obi-Wan would truly have to fulfill it. He was only fifteen, a young Padawan, entrusted with simple tasks. Ensuring the lives of a thousand beings were saved was quite an assignment, one Obi-Wan was reluctant to shoulder.

Just last week he, as well as a few other Padawan's his age, had been responsible to grow a few herbs as part of a horticultural project. Water them, feed them, and place them in the sun, all simple responsibilities. Obi-Wan was still dumbfounded how he could hade erred; after his third day with the tiny plants, they and wilted and died. Qui-Gon had proposed it hadn't been the lack of attention that had killed them, but the excess. Overwatering, too much heat.

Obi-Wan had been intensely embarrassed returning to the group with his yellowed, shrunken plants amongst the others lush greenery, but even more so at the fact of his error. An overachiever. It made him feel like a snobbish perfectionist, his failure of seeing things simply angering him still. Qui-Gon had not been disappointed in his mistake, but he had not been proud of it either. After studying the dried dirt and crumbling sprouts for a while, he had made it humorous, though Obi-Wan looked at his dead plants as a sign. How would his Master ever trust him if he could not even sustain a few seeds?

Yet, the command given to him at that moment. _Maybe Qui-Gon is giving me a chance to redeem myself_, Obi-Wan pondered, meeting the man's eyes, wondering of he could possibly accomplish his wish without Qui-Gon's calm demeanor, his gentle encouragement, his steading spirit. _I must._

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan spoke through a huff of self-confidence, "What must I do?"

Qui-Gon gave a nod to a man in the bustling crowd before them, and a lieutenant by his trim navy suit took to his side, "Lieutenant Rveran, power up the cruiser."

The humanoid gave salute, rushing up the landing ramp as Qui-Gon continued, "I'll have this cruiser send you up; once there, you will have to venture insid eth caves and seek out the citizens. They are hidden well, but once you find them direct the women and children to the pick-up point around the highest peak. Once you find them all, meet them there and await the ships, for by that time the men will be off planet." He smiled then, reflections of faith in his blue eyes, "Are you confident, my apprentice?"

"Yes, Master. You have my word."

Qui-Gon set a hand on the young one shoulder, "I never doubted you, Obi-Wan."

The words were true from both of them, and Obi-Wan basked in the subtle praise, determine then to ensure the trust did not return void. A deep, elusive whisper spoke inside him, though, one he tried to ignore as he kept his Master's steady gaze, one he knew in his heart was never, ever wrong. One that was maybe the Force itself.

Obi-Wan said finally to his Master, which ensued another round of laughter from him, before hurrying into the ship, expressing his uncertainties in as droll of a tone as he could muster, "I have a bad feeling about this."

Reviews appreciated :) Thanks for reading!


	3. Feelings Fulfilled

**(Okay, sorry about not updating, you would not believe how hard this chapter's been. I've revised it seven plus times, rewritten it at least three times and hated it every time - until now. P.S. all followers of my other story Too Close for Comfort, now that this is over new chapter coming soon. Thanks for reading!)**

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From the start of things, Obi-Wan could tell the bad feeling he had felt before he had entered the cruiser was not without reason, as it usually wasn't, not a passing wave or random blip in the Force. His instincts were very sharp when it came to sensing the possible future, or so Qui-Gon had told him, and they had never failed him before. During the entire ride to the Mountains and as he had stared at its massive height from below, ready to conquer his task, the Padawan had contemplated the feeling and had been determined not to let it hinder him. If he were to redeem himself, he could not allow a simple feeling destroy his chance.

After the sunset had fled Obi-Wan not even halfway during his trek up the Meronian Mountains, the darkness thick due to smoke and dust which whipped up into a storm not long after, his feeling had only been affirmed. And not only did the rain begin to fall, but began so suddenly that it had short-circuited his lightsaber, which Obi-Wan had been using as a light source, before he knew what had happened. As he stared frustratedly at his blackened weapon, he had recognized for not the first time that the Force was never wrong. Unfortunately for Obi-Wan, he also knew none of his planning or strategies could change that.

Once he had scaled the massive landmass and ventured into its winding labyrinth of caves tucked safely along the rock face, Obi-Wan had hoped the bad feeling had been limited to his already tough climb. He had realized, though, once he had searched the wide caves and found the first group hiding in a narrow tunnel, things were never bad enough. Their numbers were far too great. Somehow, as the Padawan did a population estimation before escorting the first group, there were way too many people. It seemed that with the rescue of each group that the estimated thousand citizens had doubled before Obi-Wan's eyes. At the query, which he had necessarily asked, a citizen had informed him that the refugees had spread out in the caverns for more room and the hidden nine groups had tripled to twenty-seven. Thus, his time finding them had multiplied threefold, and the bad feeling had only grown worse from there.

The refugee women, who only spoke and understood Meronian which made communication difficult, were weak from poor nutrition and traveled much slower than expected. The terrain was extremely rugged and prone to minor rockfalls, and the lack of lighting due to the storm and smoke separated mothers from children and Obi-Wan from groups. The tempest raged outside, the rainwater left the ground dangerously slicker and slicker with each passing group, the winds shoved them deeper into the caves and nearly off the cliffs, the temperature had drastically dropped since sunset to freezing and thus hypothermia was claiming them by the tens and hundreds.

Upon each arrival to the pick-up point, Obi-Wan had seen no sign of any rescue ships in the jet black sky. The cruisers had not yet shown themselves, perhaps due to the bad feeling once again, and after escorting all twenty-seven groups and waiting for two hours, Obi-Wan had begun to grow anxious. Detonations were sent their way on occasion, if only warning shots or target practice, but assault ships had begun patrolling. If they didn't arrive soon, Valor Quon's attack would begin full scale, and if the refugees were spotted, even in the shroud of night and rain, they would be a blatant target.

There they waited still, Obi-Wan pacing back and forth along the crowd of refugees, glancing to the sky every spare second and praying for deliverance. The mission was failing right before his eyes, whether he accepted it or not, all due to one feeling, all due to his lack of ability to handle it. The errors already made pulsed inside his mind in a tormenting rhythm, sharp like his error had on the day of his failed project, and Obi-Wan gritted his teeth as he stalked faster aside the citizens. He had to do this, restore his Master's trust, and make him proud, whatever it took. He had to accept his task, for he could not run to Qui-Gon's side, not then.

Obi-Wan imagined Qui-Gon strolling at his side, though, in the shallow dimness of the greyed sky, and the thought gave him comfort. He saw the Master as solemn, like he would be due to the situation, speaking gently in his tell-tale voice of calm, "By the will of the Force these things have happened, and you must not fight them. Do not focus on the problem . . ."

"But find the solution." Obi-Wan finished, looking over to the imagined mentor, who nodded, blue eyes smiling with an age old pride, "I never doubted you, Obi-Wan."

It was enough to drive him. It had to be.

Obi-Wan forced himself to slow his pacing, feeling the blisters he was creating in his rain-soaked boots, and he took a knee under the shadow of the overhanging stone out of the rain, fighting not to watch the sky; with a final look he turned to the crowd at his left and observed absentmindedly. The pick-up point, a smooth ledge shadowed by another small outcropping of stone, was considerable in size, big enough for three cruisers to land upon, and was a considerable height, hidden slightly by the surrounding crag. The refugees, huddled in a close bunch for warmth, fit just barely and were growing increasingly restless by the minute. Most of the women sat in small groups and spoke softly amidst the thundering storm, mothers hushing their frightened children curled on their laps and wrapped in their arms protectively from freezing winds.

Some of the braver little ones, though, ran about playfully in the frigid spray, cheeks pink from the dangerous cold and clothes soaked through; they slipped against the slick stone and giggled nervously at the roaring thunder. At a boom that made them jump and resounded deeply in the thin mountain air, Obi-Wan risked a glance to the sky hopefully, seeing only shrouding clouds and veins of cobalt lightning in the distance. He suppressed a curse.

He would rather see nothing than have attack ships heading their way, but rescue cruisers was what he prayed for. Qui-Gon Jinn was notoriously late, as already proven during their mission, but Obi-Wan knew the difference between punctual and tardy, between held up and held hostage, or shot down, or -

"Fi so li'rea?"

Obi-Wan turned, seeing a small Meronain girl at his side, dripping wet and studying him with a small smile, "Mer'a ie?" _Pardon me?_

He smiled softly as she bowed her head timidly, hands tucked behind her back, and whispered, "Ie li'rea. Ie si're ri heran." _I'm cold. I wish to go home._

Obi-Wan whispered to her gently before prodding her along to play again, "A'rie, a'rie, dru'en . . . ri me ev'reit."

_There, there, young one . . . it will be alright. _

She nodded, just as a little one would do, and skipped off again with her friends. Obi-Wan wished to go as much as she, but even if the cruisers arrived he wasn't sure he could. He stood with a grunt, sore legs stiff, and counted the crowd again. He had already counted many, many times, if not to just ensure he was counting correctly. None of his double or triple checking could change reality.

_Two thousand three hundred and forty-four. _The Padawan bit back the curse again.

They were missing one, just one, but one was enough to drive Obi-Wan mad. He hadn't enough time to search every hiding place inside the caves very thoroughly, and the inevitability of such happening was not out of the question. Twelve times, he had counted and come up with the same number, and he wasn't sure if it were the right one or not. Such miscalculation was not allowable.

Miscalculations were most often responsible for the collapse of a mission, as Qui-Gon had reminded Obi-Wan often. A misplaced coordinate here, a faulty fuselage gauge there. They seemed simple on their own, but when one handbreadth meant the success or downfall of a task, it was everything. He could not simply leave someone behind, but if Obi-Wan were to search, he would have to leave the citizens vulnerable, and with Quon's attack close at hand a wise decision it was not.

Obi-Wan ran a hand through his wet hair, speaking to his Master through their bond, one they had closed partially in the fear of Valor Quon sensing such exchange. This was an emergency, though. He had no choice. _Master . . . please, hurry . . . listen to me, Master, no more of your games -_

Qui-Gon was closed off from him still, the boy could sense immediately, maybe not just for protection but to teach him a lesson. Obi-Wan cut off sharply then, not allowing himself any more frustrations. He would decide himself.

Obi-Wan stood at the forefront of the restless crowd and motioned them all to gather and listen, hands cupped around his mouth as he shouted, "Do'run ei'el t'real er'rein a tl'a ev'rior!"

_We must wait a bit more, my friends!_

The refugees cried back their complaints, which were plausible, for food or warmth or rest or rescue, but most were of the one thing Obi-Wan had no patience to hear: _el'vire_. El'vire, an avalanche. The refugees had thought the blasts that were heard and that touched down occasionally were the instigation of an avalanche, and Obi-Wan let them think that. _Better this than a real thing to fear, _Obi-Wan reassured to himself_, better this._

At the crowds extensive banter, Obi-Wan whistled sharply until they silenced, impatience leaking through his tone, "Ve'rin ei'ren i el'vire. Ve'rin me ev'reit. Mar'i ten, i'ten, ie firean."

_Do not fear the avalanche. We will be alright. You must stay silent, deathly silent, until I return. _

They complied at the cracking of thunder, even the children hushing, and Obi-Wan gave a nod before struggling down the ledge, nearly slipping against the sheer rockface of the niche, and running off. He told himself silent,_ I will find the missing one, no errors, no hindrance. _He would not allow them.

Obi-Wan front flipped over a drop ahead, landing gracefully and never breaking his run, and did so for the following, scaling his way down the side of the mountain with Jedi precision. His lean, compact figure had always allowed him a particular ease in agility, in acrobatic like terrain training. His legs burned, growing pains mixed with strain and fatigue, but the Padawan called on the Force for strength and pushed them faster; he had trained for this, hours on end spent climbing obstacles and scaling walls, flipping from heights and sprinting into handsprings. His Master ever pushing him toward improvement, the one thing he always desired -

In his split-second distraction Obi-Wan miscalculated his next drop, landing dangerously along a thin edge which faltered his already stumbling footing and threatened to send him tumbling over the steep ledge. Obi-Wan pin wheeled his arms for balance and shifted his boots, trying not to focus on the dark, swirling abyss below him as he used the Force to shove himself back against the rough stone.

_That was close._ He sat for a moment catching his breath, and in his hesitation noticed a blip of red light in the distance, coming closer. Relief washed over him in a smile, but in the appearance of another and yet another, Obi-Wan drew his brow. The flying formation was loose and wandering, and at that he rose and sprinted toward the tunnel opening tucked away ahead of him.

They were either searching attack shuttles or rescue cruisers. Either way, he had to hurry.

Wind whistled through the narrowing expanse of the tunnel as he reached it finally, and Obi-Wan jogged faster, recognizing the memorized landmarks - a jutted stone, a particularly large stalagmite - ahead and knowing he'd reached the former hiding places as he slowed upon the main tunnel.

As were all the many tunnels in the Meronian Mountains, this particular system was rugged, even more than the others. The main alcove cupped around him like a small dome as he approached, a perfect place for wind to blow and give chill, blue-black stone glistening around him like a giant mineral. Obi-Wan stood and waited, listening carefully for any noise, still as calm water, not scuffing a boot or even breathing for a moment.

Nothing. He had already scanned each spot before ushering out the women, and was sure he found them all besides for the fact of the wrong population number. He had no time to waste with approaching cruisers. Obi-Wan turned to leave at the lengthy silence, but hesitated.

_I cannot search now, I have no time . . . _Obi-Wan's confidence flickered, and he looked back to the exit, so close . . . yet he could not go. If he were to complete his task, he would have to do it fully, even if it meant risking it all. Obi-Wan raced into the tunnel.

"No're al?!" _Anyone here?! _Obi-Wan shouted repeatedly as he ran along the labyrinth of caves, clearing through tunnel after tunnel as he sprinted hard, glancing over his shoulder in mid-stride in the chances of seeing out of the chasms, glimpsing the lightning continue to strike, sheets of freezing rain mist through, but no cruisers yet, not even Quon's, which reassured him. He could do it.

At a sudden sense of something pulse in the Force just as Obi-Wan was nearing the last few chambers, he slowed. The ground rumbled a threat, deep and coarse, and he listened for the sound of beings amongst the rain and thunder.

"No're al?" He cried, barely hesitating, the sound echoing back the depths of the tunnels, and Obi-Wan grew restless.

_I'm wasting my time!_ One part of him said, while another whispered, _listen . . . _

"No're al-"

At a sharp, replying cry Obi-Wan took off in it direction, slippery wet boots pounding the hard stone rapidly. Distress permeated into the Force, as well as great pain, and he figured someone must have been injured and immobilized or trapped beneath a rockfall. He quickly reached the brunt of the short tunnel, unclipping his lightsaber and attempting to ignite it; the blade flickered to weak life, thank the Force. It saved him not only from darkness but another reprimand -

The light found a trembling figure huddled close in the corner of the small alcove, crying softly, and Obi-Wan gasped at her condition. In the blue light he could see her greying, pallid skin sheen with sweat, but he was sure she was hypothermic; she looked only to be a little more in age than he, and her dark eyes caught his like a frightened animal.

Obi-Wan approached her quickly, kneeling and placing a hand on her thin shoulder carefully and whispering despite the thunderous noises about them, piecing together Meronian phrases as best he could, "My name is Obi-Wan, I'm one of the Jedi warriors. I'm going to help you, alright?"

The woman closed her eyes and turned from him, and Obi-Wan could tell she was simply afraid, but her body language showed distress, though no blood or injury was in sight.

"Mir, fie'non ev'reit?"

_Miss, are you alright?_

The young woman only shook her head, racked by another sobbing cry, pulling closer to herself in fear.

"Mir, fie'non u'mon?"

_Miss, are you in pain?_

A nod before a cry, and despite Obi-Wan's aching hope her condition was becoming more and more apparent to him. She looked just about the right age, her frame was thin but her robes hung close near her midsection, her pain was sharp and deep, and he had no trouble sensing it.

The Padawan swallowed, forcing himself to speak again, discomfort audible in his voice, "Mir . . . fie'non l-lire . . . dru'en?"

_Miss, are you with child?_

She nodded. Obi-Wan's stomach twisted into a knot. He knew he needed to get her out quickly. He took a deep breath, speaking softly in Meronian to reassure her, "I'm going to help you escape."

The woman only stared at him, tears streaming from her eyes, soundless. It seemed as if she knew what would become of her. They both jumped a bit at a crack of thunder, and she spoke faintly then in Meronian, "El'vire . . ."

"I know. What's your name?"

"Eri'etta."

"Can you rise?" Obi-Wan asked, eager to get her medical attention, and she denied instantly.

"No. I was left behind to die. I am unfavoured by the others." Her words were faint with sorrow, and her dark eyes were glossy. Obi-Wan winced at her cry then, looking out of the tunnel concernedly, wondering if they even had a fraction of a chance of escape.

Their time was thinning with every passing moment, as well as their options. He would not be able to carry her over the terrain or for such a distance. In her condition, he doubted she could venture out, and doubted even more she could deliver her child and then venture out.

Obi-Wan realized there was no better options. They would have to take one of those chances.

"I need you to trust me." Obi-Wan touched the young woman's shoulder to catch her gaze once more, and she watched him carefully, "We have little time before the avalanche, and if you can walk for a while-"

Eri'etta gasped and clutched at Obi-Wan's sleeve, and her hand found his and held it, squeezing until the wave of pain ended. She closed her eyes and whispered in Meronian, "I cannot . . . please, help me . . . my child is close, you must help me . . . "

At her visible suffering, Obi-Wan nodded as he carefully set his weapon down behind them, unsurity eating at him as he slipped out of his robe and pulled his sleeves up to his elbows. The young woman removed her own and handed it to him, and he hesitated before taking it: it was damp, but the driest fabric available for a swaddle. She turned on her back, and Obi-Wan inhaled, summoning all of the emergency aid knowledge he had learned as an Initiate, all of the methods of healing Qui-Gon had taught him thus far, and he exhaled.

_I never doubted you, Obi-Wan._ He would do it. His Master's trust would be fulfilled.

The Padawan knelt before her bent knees and waited, the sweat beading on furrowed brow alike to the woman's own. They were both unsure, both young, both frightened. A fierce rumble shook their surroundings just as the woman cried out, and another subsequently just as furious.

Despite the knowledge of a close assault, Obi-Wan forced such distractions out of his focus, whispering encouragement to the woman as he watched her carefully.

"Alright, just . . ." He suddenly found it difficult to breathe, feeling faint at the sights and sounds of her pain; he had never been very good at stomaching certain things, and childbirth was certainly one of them. Obi-Wan swallowed, calling on the Force to soothe her as best he could as well as calming himself, "Focus, miss, you're doing fine . . ."

The woman's moan echoed amidst the rumbling, one tremor rough enough to jolt the boy backward; something had struck the mountain. Obi-Wan tried to hide the anxiety on his face, but the girl cried in fear as her pain lessened for moment, her breath a fog due to the chill around them, "Li ei'ren . . ." _I'm afraid._

"Ri tor ei'ren." _Have no fear._ Obi-Wan encouraged, though he was sure the space around them had only minutes left of stability and he felt dizzier than ever. Her next cry was serious, and Obi-Wan felt his face colour as he chocked, "T-the head, is -"

The woman screamed, piercing through the surrounding alcove, the threatening storm and the quakes tempting to cease them, out into the freezing night, and a burning cry of life followed and echoed with it. For a brief flush, the Force rippled, absorbing the new sensation, the birth. It brightened.

With a shuddering sigh, Obi-Wan caught the wailing infant in the Eri'etta's robe, looking to her with a genuine grin of relief and disbelief. He scarcely comprehended what had just occurred, and felt a strange rush run through him as he uttered, "It's a girl."

The young woman smiled very faintly, exhausted beyond compare, her own trembling worsened. Her breathes were strained as she managed to whisper, "Y'era . . ."

_Here . . ._

Obi-Wan swaddled the infant quickly to preserve its warmth, and he trembled in awe as he wrapped its fragile body. It was very, very tiny. He placed it gently on the stone floor, fumbling in his belt pocket for his multitool, and quickly severed the birthing cord before handing it to its mother.

Obi-Wan watched Eri'etta as she held her child near to her breast, her movements drawn out like a yawn. He could sense her aura in the Force as limp as splintered thread, and he dreaded what she said between her heavy breaths, though he could swear he had known all along.

"Li . . . so'ru. Fi rein lie . . ." _I'm sorry. Go on without me._

"No . . ." Obi-Wan denied her fiercely, rising slightly and taking one of her thin arms, as cold as ice, and prodding her upward, "We must go now-"

Her body could not bear her own weight, and she nearly collapsed before Obi-Wan released her back to the sheen, cold floor. She was too weak to stand. She was too weak to even breathe. He realized that Eri'etta was dying, this tiny alcove her coffin, and he her killer. She knew it too. It seemed, as she sat silently then, that she had known.

"No, no, I . . ." Obi-Wan sat aside her, breathes strained in regret - if he'd only checked before, ran faster, focused on his task - a boom made him jump again, and he felt a lump in his throat. _I have failed._

There was no way they could make it out in time, before the caves gave in around them. The citizens would be shot, if not truly avalanched upon by falling debris, and if the cruisers were coming at all, they would leave empty handed. All these things swirled around in Obi-Wan's head as he stared at the dying girl, seeing his Master kneeling beside him then, grave as ever, just as Eri'etta looked upon her child, leaning close to its tiny ear and whispering tenderly in a delicate lullaby,

"So'ru ie lien

So'ru et lie

So'ru ie bien

So'ru ie bie

I'soru ie bien

Ie li'ru e li

I'caru ie bien

Bi'soru fie ie."

The translation filtered in Obi-Wan's mind as she sang,

_With sorrow, I lived_

_With sorrow, now lie_

_With sorrow, my love, _

_Much sorrow, I die_

_No sorrow, my love,_

_I give unto thee_

_Tomorrow, my love,_

_You must live then for me_

Her breaths were faint at the last stanza, and Obi-Wan forced his voice to speak without trembling as he whispered an apology to not just the woman, but to all he had let down, to Qui-Gon, to himself, "I'm sorry."

"Bi lari." _Thank you._ Eri'etta caught his blue-grey eyes and touched Obi-Wan's hand affectionately. The boy looked to it, thin and dirty, and wrapped his fingers around it as he accepted the child again, allowing the woman a last moment of comfort, of peace, before her end. He sent her a swell of soothing in the Force, and she lay back against the stone and closed her eyes.

"May the Force be with you . . ." He finished at the exchange, and he took off, not looking back as he ran. He let the woman go.

Blasts were the horrid new melody heard as he emerged from the tiny alcove, from large ships he figured, and nothing less than first class weaponry. Obi-Wan held the infant close to his chest as he pumped his legs, forcing himself to keep footing on the tough terrain, fighting through the darkness. He ducked, narrowly avoided a jutting rock face, seeing the tunnels grow less dark as he emerged toward the mouth of the caves, the flashing reflections of lighting in the distance instilling in him faint hope. _Almost-_

A roar ensued of crashing foundation just as the final stretch was before him, and Obi-Wan halted instantly as a stone touched down aside him, the wall to his left crumbling like dry sand. Desperately, he flung himself toward a clearing ahead and collapsed into a protective position, his arms bracing his head and the child tucked safely under him, just as everything fell apart. He squeezed his eyes shut and prayed to the Force with all his being to be saved.

The cave suddenly rocked around him, buffeting like an overheated hyperdrive, and Obi-Wan was tossed backward like a stone by a detonation, hitting the nearby wall that seemed harder than lead. The blast had come from outside, and the Padawan thought he heard screaming; in mid-air, a wretched upsurge chocked him, and he could feel life blip out in the Force all at once, yet all individually. Obi-Wan landed hard on the ground, only to be hit again by an overhead detonation, slamming him to the wall even harder than before. He held the bundle in his arms close as he was tossed again and again, and did not dare to let go. Even as the darkness took him, the bad feeling reaching its horrid climax, he did not let go.

* * *

** Reviews appreciated. Again, thanks so much :)**


	4. Everything Needed

"Padawan."

The command of Qui-Gon Jinn was firm, one Obi-Wan instantly distinguished; he had grown to learn each reprimanding or encouraging way his Master addressed him. This one, though, he heard every morning, every dawn at six, accompanied by the sweet scent of tapir tea and the soft shine of sunrise. It was one of his least favorite commands. Knowing he had to awake but refusing stubbornly at his odd exhaustion, Obi-Wan barely stirred as he sighed in half sleep.

"Obi-Wan, it is time to rise. You must not sleep anymore," A firm hand found the boy's shoulder, "You must tell me what you have done."

_What I have _- Memories returned then in an urgent buzz, memories Obi-Wan wished had never come to pass, of fear and failure and death, and his eyes flew open as he rose, alarm like a blaster bullet to his gut.

Bright white met his eyes instantly, and he squinted a bit as he looked about his shocking surroundings. He focused, making out forms of med cots and desks and ... where were the rocks? The caverns and winding tunnels of the cave systems?

As he regained his breath, Obi-Wan flicked his eyes about, startled by surroundings he knew he should not see, but recognized. He was in the Med bay of the Republic cruiser, tucked safely beneath the white sheets of a cot, the familiar scent of things sanitary almost a comfort to him as it filled his nose in his deep, still startled breaths. He fingered his blankets, disbelief unavoidable, but it all seemed so true.

The distinct hum of a hyperdrive resounded below him, and his growing relief was pulsed by confusion, but at least he was safe. At least, he was alive.

Obi-Wan caught glance of a figure by his side, Qui-Gon, standing vigil, eyes a smooth blue the Padawan knew was a hue of solemnity. He spoke soothingly, rubbing the strong hand resting still on his apprentices shoulder, "Calm, young one, you are safe. You're alright."

Obi-Wan acknowledged the gaze, his own eyes tense with disappointment, and he could not hold back his guilt, his welling grief as he stuttered to explain, "Master, I . . . I couldn't, and - you never came for us, and I only . . . o-only wanted to please you-"

"Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon sat aside the boy, pausing gently to calm him. Obi-Wan recognized the Master's tone, and he responded likewise, taking a steadying breath.

"No explanations. No excuses. No blame. I understand, and that is all I require."

"But . . . I failed the task." Obi-Wan couldn't stop his lips from trembling, his throat strained from the tears pooling in his tired grey-blue eyes, "I failed the Meronians, I failed you."

"Failure is not determined only by the outcome, Padawan, but what is put into your effort. Did you give yourself over to your task?"

Obi-Wan hesitated, "I wish to say so, Master."

"If not, then that is your true failure, mission accomplished or not." Qui-Gon smiled then, and Obi-Wan held back his tears, "You must be ready for all trials, all trouble, all temptation, with devotion. You have the ability, Padawan, but you must trust yourself to use it. You have everything you need to do the things set before you. You must not ever give in."

"I will not, my Master." Obi-Wan wiped his tears on his sleeve, feeling a renewed strength in him, and Qui-Gon patted his knee with a proud affection.

"I never doubted you Obi-Wan."

* * *

It was the silence that awoke the young boy cradled in the stretch of mountainous chasms, hollow and thin like the echoing stillness pierced only by his coarse, slow breaths. Maybe the Force had done such, but the silence had very well assisted it.

Alertness found him instantly, for he had been taught such since before he could walk, since his innocent days of being a youngling, since missions in the midst of war zones and robberies and assassinations, and he opened his eyes reflexively, every part of him beginning in the slow ache of consciousness, the pain that accompanied reality.

No less was the pain that found him as he sat up, dizzied, but aware enough to realize things. No med centre, no bed, no cruiser. No Master. Nothing. The boy forced his lips from trembling, a chocking anxiety clutching at his still teary throat.

"A dream." Obi-Wan said in a whisper to himself, "All a dream."

He rubbed the dirt from his eyes, eyes sore, eyes still wet with tears. For a moment, he wished for what his mind had created, the dream that had seemed so real, and, as he shivered in the chill of the mountains then, so distant. The warmth of the cruiser, the safety, the peace, his Master's words of encouragement and of forgiveness. Obi-Wan pondered then on it, and a revelation hit him. There was a reason why it felt to real, so true.

A premonition. It had been a vision. The Force, as the boy searched it whispering around him, assured him of its truth. Obi-Wan rarely experienced visions from the Force, but when they did occur Qui-Gon would never take them lightly. The Padawan figured he should not either. The Force was an ever changing thing, as reliable as the wind at times, so an exact replication of the vision in his future would be rare; it was a glimpse of his possible outcome, and that only. It was, at least, a hopeful one.

_You must be ready for all trials, all trouble, all temptation, with devotion. You have the ability, Padawan, but you must trust yourself to use it. You have everything you need to do the things set before you. You must not ever give in. _They were not words about his past mistakes, but words for him then and there, as the boy sat in the damp caves, alone and unsure. Obi-Wan felt the pain, soreness yes, but it was not the physical pain hit him hard. The weight of the guilt, the expanse of his task before him. He was alone -

Obi-Wan turned about, shoving himself to his feet in distress. No, he was not. He felt his stomach twist. _Where is the child?_ His mind screamed urgently, seeing no sight of the small bundle. Obi-Wan looked about, startled by wreckage about him, the walls looking like they had been mauled by a angry rancor, though it was very, very quiet. He was surprised he was alive amidst the boulders strewn about, each one very close and very well able to crush him - very able to crush a tiny child.

The desperation swelled in him, and Obi-Wan did not know what to do. If the baby was gone, why did he still sense someone...?

The embodied presence he sensed was confirmed by a shuffling of feet, small feet by the slight sounds. There was someone else in the caves. His tired eyes did him no good for sight in the already dim caverns as he searched them, but it didn't take long before he saw enough.

Out of an outcropping leading into another small tunnel, a small side profile was seen, eyes alight in a soft glow of blue. The eyes of the Meronian, since once a cave-dwelling people, would light in darkness, literally shine like a glowfly to alert others of their presence. The strange beauty in them had no trouble catching the Padawan, though his curiosity of the being pulsed through him even more. If someone had found him, that meant there was a way to escape.

"Hello?" Obi-Wan called softly, throat coarse from screaming who knows how long ago, "Hello? Is someone there?"

Of course, there was someone there, and the someone instantly recoiled at the call, disappearing behind tunnel. Obi-Wan strolled nearer, continuing to speak, "I won't hurt you -"

Of course. He thought, I'm speaking Basic. Obi-Wan fumbled in his belt pocket for a ration pellet, speaking then in Meronian, "Vlas eare ush'liel ie."

_I won't harm you._

His steps became deliberately soft as he approached the tunnel, crouching to a knee to peek inside. The tunnel had been caved, boulders bracing the entire passage besides for a few feet inside, just enough for a small child to hide. A little Meronian girl sat cross-legged in the hiding place, rocking side to side gently, arms curved at her middle. Her blue eyes alight shone down to what she cradled: a tiny, sleeping infant. Obi-Wan sighed, relieved.

Not having the slightest clue of how she found him but not wanting to startle the girl, Obi-Wan spoke in the softest, gentlest whisper he could manage, creeping up close to speak into the tunnel, "Fi'treal?" _Hello?_

The girl lifted her head, blue eyes blinking curiously at the noise, arms protectively pulling the baby closer.

"Fi'treal? Ie i'ren fi g'heran." _Hello? I know someone is here._ Obi-Wan crept so that he was nearly all visible, "Vlas eare ush'liel ie. Ie rev'reil." _I don't mean to harm you. I have food for you._

He held out his palm, in it a ration pellet that he knew was not the most appetizing, but it was food. The girl peeked forward, and unable to resist the offer stood and approached the hand. She did not take the food and run as Obi-Wan had thought she would, but looked around the corner to his face. The eyes watched him intently, and brightened delightedly a's the girl smiled.

"Eir e'trieal tor yi'fidel!" _You are a warrior!_ The girl, still carefully holding the child, took the ration and popped it in her mouth, chewing as she stood before him, "Eir tore Obi." _You are called Obi._

"Obi-Wan." The Padawan nodded, and recognized the girl. He asked her in Meronian, just to be sure, "You are the young one who told me you were cold, aren't you?"

The girl giggled and nodded. He smiled at her joy, remembering how she had grinned at him in the rain as so."What are you doing here? Where is your family?"

"I ran. When the fire started, my mother ran and I ran." The girl bit her lip, pausing. Obi-Wan pondered on her words "when the fire started". The blasts, he figured, the bright red blaster bolts had seemed to them like fire. When the girl did not continue, he sensed where things were headed.

"Your mother is not here, is she?"

The girl shook her head, "She fell. She told me to run and hide. I ran and ran and got lost. But I heard your baby crying. Here, you can have her back . . ."

She held the child out a bit, and the infant whimpered just a little, not to be soothed promptly by the little girl. Obi-Wan accepted the baby, pulling the blankets a little from her face to examine her. One small cut was seen across the delicate forehead, covered slightly by the gossamer hair of brown. Such minute beauty was visible yet, in only barely hours old, and an image of Eri'etta flashed in Obi-Wan's mind. One to have died, and one of many.

How had he let this happen? Had he not known by the bad feeling that things were not to turn out well? Or had the knowledge only drive his strive for perfection, for his Master's pride? Obi-Wan let the curse he had been withholding escape from beneath angered, quickened breaths. _Stupid, stupid fool._ So heavy was the Force upon him then, mourning. He sensed it's fragility as he sensed such from the tiny form in his arms, and the small form watching him closely.

Strength, though, he imagined, filled the form of Qui-Gon, who knelt then aside them all, quiet and solemn.

"What am I to do?" Obi-Wan asked aloud, and the figure stated only, as he had in the dream, "You have everything you need. You must not ever give in."

The man was serene, and Obi-Wan was frustrated, wanting an explanation, a plan, direction, not a metaphor, not encouragement. But as he raised his head to inquire, the image faded. Whatever had occurred with the assault ships and the refugees while he was unconscious, whether the attack had succeeded or an avalanche had truly happened, was very much over. His assigned task had been finished, not completed or succeeded, but finished.

Now, he had a new task: that he and the child survive and escape alive.

"Let's go home." The little girl suggested in answer to his question, and Obi-Wan did not know whether it not to tell her their bleak outlook. Her blue eyes, deep like the natural minerals about, flickered hopefully. He decided not.

"Let's. But first, what is your name young one?"

"E'lia." The girl smiled, brushing dark curly hair from her face,"My daddy named me. It means 'light'."

"It's very pretty."

"Do you know what your name means?"

"I'm not sure it has a meaning."

"'Obi' means 'hidden', and 'Wan' means something like sad." E'lia twisted her face a bit, confusion seen in the expression, "You don't look very sad."

"That is good, isn't it?" Obi-Wan said, pondering on the translation; he rose, looking down to the girl, "Now E'lia, do you think you could remember how you found me? Just step by step, place by place?"

"Maybe." E'lia stepped ahead in three small skips, continuing toward a caved-in passage ahead, but Obi-Wan followed anyway. His faith in the girl was hopeful, though his doubts of such a young child remembering were feasible. "Where are we going?"

"Home, like you said."

"Oh. Alright. I'm hungry."

"Yes, we will find food. The baby will need some too, so we will have find the hiding places and see if there are any emergency kits and travel bags there, left behind."

"Your baby is pretty."

Obi-Wan did not bother to explain on the childs true origins, and only replied, "She is, isn't she?"

"Have you named her yet?" E'lia asked, looking up to the Jedi wonderfully.

"No, I haven't. I'll have to think about that, won't I?"

"Yes. Here it is..." E'lia pointed to a slight clearing in the brunt of a short tunnel ahead, a piece of small light between three heavy rocks. Obi-Wan bid her forward first, and managed his way through, with a small protest from the infant, into a vast clearing. The area they stood in he knew had not been explored, for it glimmered all over with minerals and gems, the dark stone studded with the priceless jewels. A small stream, just barely a trickle flowed in the distance, a stream he knew lead eventually to a river, and the air was rich with moisture and clay.

It reminded him of a trip him and Qui-Gon had taken, to a planet lush with mineral filled caves, where they had gathered jewels and stones and meditated in the pure stillness. The thought comforted him, like a gentle caress to his shoulder, his Master's gesture of pride. The air was rich with earth, and Obi-Wan thanked the Force for leading him there as he trudged a few last steps and sat down beside the water.

"It's very big!" E'lia said, looking to him with a grin, and Obi-Wan nodded, "Do you know which way you came?"

"Yep. This way!" The little girl skipped ahead, climbing over the ragged stones, thin frame disturbed none by the effort, and she giggled to herself as she continued forward. Obi-Wan felt a great reluctance as he paused and watched her, like the breeze that tingled on his moist skin and tunic, smelling of stagnant water and minerals.

He had proven insufficient for his previous task; could he possibly accomplish the one before him alone? No instruction, no objective, no assistance? Obi-Wan knew what was at stake, glancing down to the infant in his arms and ahead again to E'lia clamoring over the rocks. If anything, he knew he had to save them, and he could only do that if he also saved himself.

Obi-Wan sighed, calling to young one, "E'lia! Wait up . . ."

He followed after the little one quickly, being sure not to disturb the one still in slumber in his arms.

* * *

"The perimeter is secured from quadrant sector two-one-one-seven over, sir." The officer reported quickly, sweat dripping down furrowed brow, but he was too busy to even hesitate. He raised his voice to the commander, his back to him, a few feet away down the catwalk, "No sign of any . . . refugees have been reported after intense reconnaissance, sir. They said it's like they disappeared."

The man bit his fingernail intently, not turning to face the officer as he stared out the windshield of his ship, down to the quickening dawn below. The planets tiny sun was growing on the flat tan horizon, and from the vantage point of the cockpit, it cast shadows on nothing. There was nothing down there. Commander Valor Quon was disgusted by the word as it raced around his mind. It was not something he had wanted to hear.

"Disappeared?" He whispered, chewing at his finger, "There were two-thousand Meronians on this planet less than forty-eight hours ago. They hadn't eaten for weeks. They had been monitored, moved from each of our secured shelters to the next, for months."

Quon turned on his heels, approaching the officer with clenched teeth and a sharp intake of breath, seizing the former's uniform collar and pressing him back against a nearby console. The officer, a young man very much capable of escape, froze. He had learned of the consequence of upsetting the commander as all the others had, and said not a word in fear of his life.

"You have the audacity to come to me and tell me they have . . . _disappeared_?" The voice stabbed into the officers face like an insult, Quon's eyes a crisp auburn, hinting a subdued scarlet. The dark hair obscured them, the brows knit intensely as he spoke again, "You know what I told all of you in briefing last night, don't you? You _know_. I said to make sure that all traces of those Jedi were completely obliterated. To make sure that it really was a myth. To ensure that _no one_ was to interrupt my plan . . ."

The officer was shoved as the man released him, and he coiled back, making his terrified breaths as silent as possible.

"And you have failed my bidding. The Jedi are behind this. I'm not stupid - I _know_ they are alive!"

"Sir, we did -"

"You fired on the civilians last night!" Quon restrained his hands himself, barely, as he turned to the officer again as he shouted. The officer was only but a boy, as he had been. Quon grimaced in remembrance, and continued, "My merchandise was jeopardized by you stupid officers, and you're not even smart enough to know where they went?! Where are they?!"

The officer recoiled even more, shaking his head and fixing his cap as he struggled to rise, backing away down the catwalk as Quon stalked closer. He stopped as the officer reached the door, preesing his back upon it and waiting, looking frightened enough to faint. Quon smiled. How he enjoyed the fear toward him. He raised a hand, clenched in a firm fist, and the officer's eyes grew wild and wide, hands gripping at his exposed neck, searching for air.

"Return to your ships and find the refugees. Search the caves, scan the planet, do anything you feel suit. Report back to me in four hours." Quon basked in the man's terrified state with a smirk for a second longer before releasing his grip on him, the officer chocking and coughing in response. He rose and pulled at the door, nearly racing away at the commanders last words.

"One last thing: find Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi." Quon turned back toward the horizon, morning light awakening his sickening fury. He spit after he spoke the names, flicking his wrist at the officer to leave after he finished cruelly, "And don't dare you let them escape."


	5. The Struggle

**_Okay, soooooo . . . haven't updated since September - say what :O I'm sorry all you followers, I did not realize it had been that long... anyways, I'll try very very VERY hard to make it quick next time! Thanks to all my reviewers and please review! I love them all ;D_**

* * *

**_(Three Days Prior)_**

_The shelter was damp, warm and small. It smelled of dirt and sweat, which was mostly what it contained. Tables touched tables, as did the elbows of neighbours, and the closeness did not bring as much comfort to Obi-Wan as it did to his Master._

_The floors beneath his boots were slick with condensation almost causing his feet to slip as he shifted nearer to his Master for peace of mind. Six hours had the blizzard clung close to the planet, winds unrelenting and temperature cold enough to frostbite in minutes. The Jedi had not called a state of emergency to avoid an uproar, but were prepared to if the storm did not let up. Obi-Wan hoped, very dearly it would._

_The Padawan tore a piece of stale bread from the hard lump of it in his hand, slipping it through dry lips to be painfully swallowed. It was the same bread the refugees had rationed all week, and even when it had been fresh Obi-Wan had honestly been tempted to eat flimsiplast. His hunger had not been satiated in days, along with his need of a sanisteam and a good nights rest, but those were luxuries where he was; some of the Meronians had not bathed in months._

_Obi-Wan winced to himself at the thought, muscling down another gritty mouthful of bread. Qui-Gon had said that his discomfort about their missions circumstances was the disorder, the fact nothing was done properly and instead in disarray. Obi-Wan hadn't protested, taking the observation in stride._

_His master had always felt comfortable in the thick of things, and he still needed to learn to be so. He often wondered how Qui-Gon could lead the refugees during long treks from shelter to shelter, to fight through the dangers and ignore the odds against them that had recently increased. Obi-Wan could not understand how his Master could be so fearless._

_The chatter around him hushed a little and Obi-Wan lifted his head to see the inhabitants listening as another back of snow from a nearby over shelf tumbled upon the roof of the small shelter with a muffled thump. Their distress was palpable and Obi-Wan felt his shoulders tense at the thought of them being trapped again._

_Qui-Gon stood amidst the shallow noise that became nothing at his rising, a depth in his voice that echoed around the tiny room, "Meri'iel e'rien." _Do not fear.

_And that was all he said. Obi-Wan did not have to speak too loudly as he asked his Master his question, for Qui-Gon's face was centimetres from his own. "Master, have you ever been afraid?"_

_Qui-Gon turned a bit and gave the boy a smile, chewing his own portion of bread. His inset blue eyes were shadowed, hidden slightly by his shelf of greying brow, but smoothly captured Obi-Wan's attention like they always could. Obi-Wan remembered the first time he had been caught by the eyes, like being drowned in a clear sea roiling with waves of wisdom, strength and kindness._

_It had been a strange feeing. It still was, though as he saw then Obi-Wan noticed the subdued wave of pain there. He felt guilty suddenly, guilty of asking such a question if it brought the man such suffering._

_Obi-Wan instantly stuttered an apology, "Master I - I'm sorry, I did not - if it brings you such pain to revisit, it is not my place to ask -"_

_"Padawan, calm down. Qui-Gon chuckled, the same smile brightening, "Pain and fear often go hand in hand, don't they?"_

_Obi-Wan nodded._

_Qui-Gon gave one too, "Even I can recall a time when you were afraid."_

_". . . speaking before the High Court of Dantooine?"_

_"No, though you were very nervous, weren't you?"_

_"Nervous?" Obi-Wan scoffed, "I would have rather died."_

_"But afterwards, you were not frightened, were you?"_

_"No."_

_Qui-Gon wrinkled his brow, feigning curiosity, "Why is that?"_

_Obi-Wan realized how his Master had turned the question over to him, but sensed the intent behind his query. Everything is a lesson, he remembered Qui-Gon's words._

_The Padawan bit his lip in thought, "I suppose because since it was over, I had nothing left to fear."_

_"What had you feared?"_

_"Erring . . . forgetting what to say . . ."_ _Obi-Wan smiled, "Fainting."_

"_And you did none of those things." Qui-Gon commented, "And even if you had, would you still be frightened today?"_

_Obi-Wan wrinkled his brow, "Why should I be?"_

_"Exactly. That is the answer, Padawan." Qui-Gon finished his meal, bringing both arms on the table just barely._

_Obi-Wan thought for a moment, "Why should you be afraid?"_

_Qui-Go nodded. "What you fear is nothing, unless you cause it to be. I could fear . . . freezing to death. In the end, if I did die than my fear was for naught. My fear was probably what killed me."_

_"But what if I fear . . . losing the refugees to the storm?" Obi-Wan tried, "Is that justifiable?"_

_"If that does occur, then what?"_

_Obi-Wan shrugged, "I don't know, Master. I don't understand."_

_"Fear is not the same as caution, fear is not the same as wariness. You should be wary of the risk of death around us, yes, but to fear it would only be a hindrance."_

_"What do you fear then Master?" Obi-Wan asked._

_Qui-Gon turned his head away, bowing it slightly and hiding the wave of pain the boy saw wash over the blue of his gaze. Surely, there was nothing the Master would fear. Obi-Wan could not imagine anything with the ability to cause his Master to break from fright, nothing. Or, he forced himself not to imagine it._

_Obi-Wan whispered when the man did not reply, "Master?"_

_"I fear losing you." Qui-Gon said quickly, granting the boy his eyes again, "Losing you like I lost Xanatos. Losing you to darkness, or death. Losing you forever."_

_Obi-Wan could not say anything. He smiled to his Master in understanding, in reassurance. He had never really forgotten that piece of time, seeing his Master in vulnerability because of himself. He was not sure if he had liked it._

_But he never, ever forgot._

* * *

Six hours, or so the boy imagined, had passed by very slowly. Every second one step, every minute one new tunnel, and hours were spent weaving through darkened crevices to search, and come up empty. E'lia's gentle assurances filled the air between the times they did not speak, when the baby cried and Obi-Wan wished for peace. In the times when the infant cried on and on so, the little girl would take a turn in holding and rocking, singing a silly little song over and over.

Obi-Wan had fought back evey hint of doubt, of lacking faith in the girl, up until he had realized they were revising passages, circling tunnels. Of course, E'lia had insisted she knew where to go. The Padawan had not wanted to deny her if only to allow the hope burning in her to stay aflame. Suggestions of different routes had been sometimes taken, though short lived. Following the still thin vein of water had only lead to its source, an equally narrow outlet, and the times when they had let their hope ignite and find their escape once more preheated, each time it dimmed.

Viewing things in retrospect, or imagining himself doing so, often helped Obi-Wan through a current task. Looking back upon what he was experiencing then would remind him how near the future was, his soon his troubles would fade. Then, he dared not do so. He felt in the Force, at least for some of them, there would be no retrospect.

Obi-Wan shifted the emergency bag they had stumbled upon, one half trampled and the items inside mostly crushed, but they had been thankful. Rations, a blanket, a few med supplies. Not much, but enough. He sensed it was mid-morning by the occasional flicker of light he could see through splinters in the otherwise solid stones high above. The ever present silence was pierced again by the infants wails, and E'lia hushed the baby softly.

"E'lia?" Obi-Wan called, strolling to a stop beside the river bank, and the girl turned around with big eyes, "Let's rest here. The baby is probably hungry."

She nodded, strolling over to the Jedi as he took a seat close to the trickling water, setting the pack down and rummaging through. The contents were really no good to begin with; Obi-Wan lifted a lopsided white package stiff as stone, and winced at it curiously, "What in the galaxy . . .?"

"That was probably a bandage," E'lia suggested, the baby in her arms quieting to weal noises, "or an ice pack."

Obi-Wan found five fist sized ration servings, seven packages of water nourisher and thank the Force a bottle. "Here, I'll feed her . . ."

E'lia handed him the baby carefully, sighing in relief, "She's heavy!"

Obi-Wan tore open a ration, which was a grey rectangle of something and gave half to the girl as he read the ingredients, "Phorelias extract, dterminium, xethon - _xethon_ fiber?'

E'lia looked to the food as she chewed a hungry bite, "Tates like . . . metal."

"Vitamins, young one, nourishment." Obi-Wan encouraged as he filled the bottle from the stream and emptied a package of nourishment powder in, "You will need it to stay well."

"You will keep me well, right Obi?" The question was childish concern, and Obi-Wan nodded. E'lia asked, "You will keep me safe too?"

"You are safe with me, young one."

"Good. Can't they make these taste better?" E'lia scrunched her nose at it, and Obi-Wan found himself smiling at her. _Garen would say something like that._

The infant in his arms took the bottle so quickly Obi-Wan feared she would choke, but she closed her little eyes, content. He relaxed in slight, and as he watched E'lia humming to herself as she chewed, the radiant coolness and vastness about, he felt more relieved than he had their entire journey.

Soon, they begun again, despite the fact that hey had walked throughout the twilight, but they had no other choice but to go on. E'lia skipped about without a care ahead of the Padawan, who often struggled over the terrain, careful not to awaken the sleeping infant.

At one point, when dusk was beginning to settle in a chill, Obi-Wan was taken aback in wonder, watching E'lia spin about around the beauty of the dark, glowing caves in a few childish circles, her tattered dress fanning around her and dark tresses of curls spinning Obi-Wan knew she tired, yet so full of life. She tried her best to be patient and willing, but she was only a little girl. _One orphaned_, he mused sadly, _alone._

He had nearly forgotten, if for moments only, the deaths that had occurred. He was still clueless of the casualties, or the survivors. The Force gave him no hint, though Obi-Wan sensed an obscurity in it, a shroud. On missions with his Master, Qui-Gon had told him once before about voids in the spectrum of the Force, places where the Force's influence was trapped in a bubble, impenetrable from the inside out, and outside in.

Obi-Wan could not sense his Master, that he had determined quickly, with a stabbing pain to his heart. His spines prickled again at the thought of being detached from Qui-Gon; he did not like it in the least. What troubled him most was that he knew his Master could not sense him either. Obi-Wan hoped dearly that his Master did not assume . . . he was worry had died quickly, for he knew deep in a place in his heart where the Force was unneeded that he would not ever do such a thing. Qui-Gon Jinn never gave up; the words of his Master in his vision returned. _I must never give in.  
_

Obi-Wan smiled as she tottered and retreated to his leg as balance, tilting her head up and brushing hair from her face in a huff as she spoke, "Come try, Obi!"

"I can't. The baby -"

"I'll hold her, you try!" E'lia tugged at his tunic pants in pleading, giving a small sound of begging. Obi-Wan wondered to himself why her eyes seemed to convince him so, and why he was even considering it. He was not a child, not victim to the silly games of younglings, of singing and dancing and spinning. His mind went back to the times of him watching the others his age do so, and him never joining. Maybe he had only been afraid, too afraid to try.

E'lia hopped gently, "Please?"

He sighed, handing her the child, and E'lia gave a squeal of pleasure, taking the baby and seating herself on a perching stone to watch. Obi-Wan took place in a flat space of rock, nothing to trip him or bump into. He looked to the girl and asked, "Now what?"

She giggled, "Put your arms out like a sketto."

Obi-Wan complied.

"Close your eyes."

Obi-Wan did so.

"Now, imagine you are very, very small, as small as a jo'ju seed."

Jo'ju seeds were, the boy knew, a seed from the very tall Lunier tree, one native to forested planets. The seeds of the tree had three wing like fans that caused it to spin like a propeller at release, granting it gentle and safe arival to soil on its flight down from its tall parent.

"Alright. I feel very small -"

"Dont feel small. Be small!"

"I _am_ small." Obi-Wan reluctantly mustered.

"Now, spin!" E'lia said, with much glee. Obi-Wan sighed, posturing his arms out vertical, picturing a very tall drop below, and braced his feet. He could do this. If he could not complete his mission, could not grow a seed, the least he could do was be one.

In an all or nothing pulse, Obi-Wan pivoted his body and began to spin, his arms feeling light yet weighted to increase his speed. His sometimes awkward feet seemed smooth and controlled as they twisted about one another, crossing and turning. The feeling of vertigo was nowhere near at all. He felt . . . nothing.

"Now open your eyes!"

Obi-Wan suddenly viewed a haze of light and shadow, making out the form of the little girl in observation but not grasping where or how. The dark rocks were a blur, and he felt himself soon faster and faster -

"Now say 'freedom'!"

The words escaped his lips in a cry of clarity, a song like sound that the boy wondered where it escaped from. From a deep part of his heart yet to unlock, or the part he had been locking. His own sense of freedom. Obi-Wan found himself slowing, spinning to a stop and stumbling to the ground, panting in exertion of the task. E'lia scrambled carefully down from her perch to his side, the child held close to her as she sat beside him.

"My father taught me that. He taught me that freedom is even more beautiful than all the galaxy." E'lia smiled, small lips parting to reveal tiny teeth, "You look tired."

"I am."

"Do you spin a lot?"

Obi-Wan shook his head, regaining his breath.

"I do. It's fun." E'lia yawned, looking around at their darkening surroundings. Obi-Wan took the hint, beckoning her to rise and head to a makeshift resting place.

* * *

The night was very dark, but Obi-Wan had managed to keep the ambers of the nights flame warm and the fire burned low before them. E'lia lay close to his side atop his robe, chest rising and falling slowly in sleep.

A screech of sketto passed overhead, but Obi-Wan ignored them, rocking slowly back and forth, hushing to the fussy child. The hour was late, but the child refused sleep still. Hunger, no, and he had just cleaned its soiled blankets. Obi-Wan's worried thoughts were relentless as the nights of no sleep grew and grew in length.

The refusal of nourishment, the crying and screaming, and as he had learned at his third awakening in not more than an hour, a fever to her skin. The word sickness, he dare had not speak, but inwardly considered. E'lia and him were barely getting by on rations and water, the little girl beginning to tire easily and himself growing thinner.

If the child were to become sick, there would be little chance. Obi-Wan had to accept it, but then, as he bounced the baby squirming at his chest, he could not. _Not yet._

A stirring was seen in his peripheral, and Obi-Wan glanced up to find E'lia watching him from her place of rest, eyes bright in the dark. He knew the baby's cries disturbed her sleep, interrupting dreams he hoped were peaceful. Her face was distressed a bit, and she sniffed back tears as she whispered, "I'm sad."

"Why?" Obi-Wan shifted nearer so that he sat knee to knee to the girl. E'lia breathed in hiccups, but did not cry, "I'm sad that we cannot find our way home."

"We will, young one. We must have faith."

"Do you promise?" E'lia looked to him with glossy eyes, "Promise we will find home together. All of us, even . . . even our baby?"

Obi-Wan hesitated. Promises were things Jedi were not encouraged to do. Promises meant commitment, devotion, things not always available or optional. You must be ready for all trails, all trouble, all temptation, with devotion. Obi-Wan looked to his imagined Master, watching him from across the weakening blaze of fire. Qui-Gon was solemn, like always, but a certain glint in his eyes told the Padawan all.

"I promise you." Obi-Wan smiled to the girl and she calmed her gentle fears.

"Can you sing?" E'lia asked as she lay her head upon his thigh, grabbing his tunic pants for comfort.

"Yes, young one." Obi-Wan stroked her soft curly hair, and rocked gently the infant who had quieted to at least a whimper in his embrace. His Master's image faded as he began the lullaby, soothing both tiny children to slumber, soothing the boys heart that still pulsed with guilt and anxiety, soothing the night unto morning.

_"With sorrow, I'll live, _  
_With sorrow, I'll die, _  
_With sorrow, my love, _  
_Much sorrow, I lie._

_No sorrow, my love, _  
_I give unto thee, _  
_Tomorrow, my love, _  
_You must live then for me . . ."_

* * *

Qui-Gon Jinn fought to keep the brimming frustration out of his tone as he paced back and forth in one of the many small refugee tents, heated by his own emotion. Through the screen on the fabric's roof his eyes watched the high mountains jutting into the dark sky, the irony of such a peaceful looking place that was truly not peaceful in the least.

"The smoke is still far too thick, and a night search simply won't make any progress." Lieutenant Rveran tried to soothe the irritated, impatient Jedi, sitting at a table of maps and battle plans, "The troops are resting, and by dawn - "

"Dawn? My apprentice has been out there for nearly two days without food, water - all alone." Qui-Gon turned to meet the man's eyes, "If you do not search, then I will myself."

"I don't advise that, Master, even for a Jedi flying conditions are grim. The risk of malfunction is extremely high."

"And the risk of Obi-Wan's death - is that not a high enough price also?"

"At the expense of our troops?" Rveran sighed, rising to stand before Qui-Gon, "I do not wish to harm the boy. But the stakes are too high. At the first beam of sunlight, my troops will begin reconnaissance. Not a minute sooner."

The Lieutenant gave a salute, exiting the tent into the frigid night. Qui-Gon watched him go, with a curse beneath his breath he did not withhold. An ache in him that he had been denying took life, and he could not ignore it anymore. This was his fault.

_I expected too much of the boy._ Qui-Gon pursed his lips, knowing he should rest, meditate, but continued instead to pace about. It had taken everything in him not to rush to Obi-Wan's aid at the length of his absence. No, he had wanted to give the boy time. The Master was well aware of his desire for redemption, to complete his task as soon as it had been assigned. That was his Obi-Wan, eager, humble, still only a boy. _I should not have put so much on his shoulders._

Qui-Gon groaned softly, eyes finding the mountains in the obscurity of moonlight and thick smoke. He trusted his Padawan, a trust as deep as anything, one he did not and hadn't shared with any other being. Not his fleeting love, Tahl. Not his tragic apprentice Xanatos. Not his former Master Dooku. No one. Maybe he had supposed this trust alone was enough to give the boy the ability to complete his task. But no.

Initially, Qui-Gon had ignored the boys touches through the Force. He had wanted Obi-Wan to know how it felt to be a Knight, with not a crutch to lean upon, only himself and the Force. That was what he regretted most. His worry had taken flight when he had received the news of the mountains severe avalanche, the several missing refugees, and the fact that he could no longer feel the boy; the caves, he assumed, were a void. He hoped. Qui-Gon knew, inside of himself in his heart, that he would know if the boy . . . was gone.

Qui-Gon rubbed his face tiredly, forcing himself to stop pacing; he would need his strength for the morrow. Transmissions were to be restored then, and he would contact the Council and find Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon slumped to the hard ground and sat, praying that the boy he loved like his son was alright. He wasn't sure what he would do if not.

* * *

Dawn was near far too soon, if only known by the lessening of darkness and not the wakening of light. Obi-Wan was roused into the dimness of twilight, feeling a frost blanketing him; his cheeks and ears were numb and he could see his breath. The soreness in his muscles was raw from the cold, and he could not remember the last time he had felt so stiff - then again, he had missed a few days of his katas. Qui-Gon would not be pleased to hear that, the boy mused dryly as he sat up, stretching as he looked around.

They had camped in a dip in the terrain and ashes from the nights blaze floated about the freezing air; it had not yet been so cold on their journey and Obi-Wan knew it was not a good sign. The young ones and him had barely made it in fair conditions, and battling the wintry temperatures would not be easy. Concernedly, the Padawan saw that each little one was still swaddled warmly enough. E'lia wore his robe over her small frame, the hood covering most of her face; Obi-Wan watched the slow billows of her breath with content.

The smaller bundle he took into his arms, unraveling the baby's blankets to finger her cheek. It was no longer fevered but lukewarm, and Obi-Wan winced as she whimpered from the cold, her breathing sickly. The loss of fever made him worry, knowing her weak little body had stopped fighting the illness. Her tiny Force-presence reached for his own, and he sensed its grasp very faintly, not nearly as bright as it had been at her birth. It was dimming. The boy sent her a soothing caress, covering her safely once more.

Obi-Wan, looking up again, heard a sound cut into the silence: sharp, uniform and mechanic. His heart skipped, noticing then as his eyes searched for a faint trace sunlight among the slivered stones, that it was not yet morning - but why, then, had he awoken? Again, the clattery-clang was heard, E'lia stirring a bit at the crescendo of the mysterious noise. Obi-Wan knew it was a noise far too constant, too familiar. Droids, he assumed, biting his lip, probes or patrols. The Padawan looked about the stillness, noticing how still it really was -

_The stream._ They - whoever they were - had dammed the stream, the faint but nourishing water soon to be stagnant. Whoever they were knew there were survivors and wanted to get rid of them. Obi-Wan felt his heart quicken. They hadn't much time.

Gently, with not a hint of worry, he rubbed E'lia's back to rouse her, and her eyes flittered open slowly; when they met his, though, she knew there was something wrong. "Obi?"

"Hush, child. Come quickly." Obi-Wan fixed his robe over her shoulders and helped her to her bare, blistered feet again, taking her hand and helping her up out of their protective hiding basin. He kicked the fires remnants before he followed her out, grabbing the emergency pack.

E'lia stared at him with her owlish eyes when he met her side in a crouch, her bright disposition snuffed out by fear, "Obi, what's wrong? Are we lost?"

"No, little one, but we must be swift. We must hide for a while," Obi-Wan hushed her as she shook her head, pulling his robe around her shivering body, "none of that, now. We need not be frightened. We will be alright."

"Who is looking for us?" E'lia asked, blue eyes glowing from beneath the large hood, but he ignored her worry, taking her hand to lead her forward.

"No one. Come, now -"

"No!"

The little girl pulled away. She stomped one tiny foot, her voice breaking in the shout from fatigue, and Obi-Wan was taken aback, knowing the child did not behave in such a way. He could see a genuine emotion in the big eyes that glared at him.

"I know you are not really a warrior."

A stab of hurt hit him, but Obi-Wan did not deny her. With his eyes, he confirmed the statement, and the Meronian gaze grew teary.

"Tell me what's wrong." E'lia set her face, seeming less than that child than he could remember, "You can't do everything alone, Obi. You can't save us all alone."

Obi-Wan swallowed, running his free hand over his hair in an overwhelmed gesture; he knew the truth, even if it had to have been spoken through the simplest of means. He could not do it by himself - he could not save the mission alone. But the painful denial, it hurt, winding a hard knot in his stomach that made him sick.

What was he to do?

A noise again caught his attention, and instinctively the Padawan tugged E'lia close, who clung back at his chest tightly. The consistent, insistent clamor sent individual jolts of fear with each resounding clang, hollow thump and chittering whir. Obi-Wan hesitated no longer - they had no time.

In a heartbeat, he grabbed E'lia's small hand and lead forward, seeing through the dimness around them pockets of darkness and heading to them. The cavern around was wide and tall, with few outcroppings and tunnels, and he found none despite his quick meticulous search. Cursing, Obi-Wan barely felt E'lia tug his sleeve, pointing toward a tunnel in the distant shadows "There!"

The sound was louder than ever then, and as the raced over a rumbling began, followed immediately by a trembling beneath them. Obi-Wan glanced behind him in quick flicks of his head, seeing the far curved rockwall begin to crumble, to give way due to resistance. "Hurry," He encouraged, but they had not made it halfway before the wall gave, curtains of stones falling to reveal their enemies.

Slim droids they were, with thin limbs and thinner elongated red photoreceptors on either side of a ovaline head. Obi-Wan knew little about their machinery, but guessed these particular droids were custom made, by their strange outer markings in black and blue abstract patterns. Stealth, speed, agility he could see, made for the mountain terrain and fresh out of the factory; nothing good on their part, not at all.

Quickening, Obi-Wan shed the emergency pack and coaxed E'lia to continue, though they both stumbled every few steps. As long as they don't see us, for only a few seconds -

"Target acquired!" A monotone drone resounded loudly, "Fire at will!"

The sound of a hundred blasters being loaded was one Obi-Wan rarely heard, but recognized instantly - an understandable panic plagued him at it, the three of them running across an unobstruced plain: clear targets. Using the Force, the Padawan unclipped his lightsaber and, ensuring E'lia was safely running aside him, deflected any incoming fire. His reflexes were sluggish at first, legs stumbling as he multitasked, but soon he remembered just as it should have been; not only did he reflect the shots but aimed them back to hit a few droids.

"Target mobile! Lock on!"

Obi-Wan, though he could fight the crossfire, knew he could not defend them as much as he wished to. He held the baby close as a shot ricocheted beneath his boots, ducking another that whizzed by his head and scorched the stone wall. E'lia whimpered in fear and fatigue. They hadn't the strength for any of this.

"We're almost there, little one." Obi-Wan could see the dark safety ahead, tucked away.

E'lia nodded, and the Padawan put away his weapon to take the little hand as they made their final stretch. He put a bit of the Force around them and prayed quickly again -

A shriek, a thump and a slipping of skin from skin. Obi-Wan barely noticed the little hand leave his, and looked back to see E'lia lying on the ground reaching for him. His heart froze, glancing to the droids, the hiding place, and knowing they had no time.

Obi-Wan raced back. A stray shot grazed by his shoulder en route, and Obi-Wan looked to the approaching droids in panic. Gently, he lifted her to her feet and with his help limped finally to the safety of the cavern, slipping inside the narrow opening.

"We made it . . ." Obi-Wan hushed the burbling infant as he peeked warily out, seeing the droids dissipate in search. "E'lia, we - "

The Padawan looked back to the little girl, who was lying fetal on the ground, hands clutching her middle. Panicked, he took to her. A deep colour of scarlet stained the pale hands. He moved them, seeing the scorch and stain beneath them. _No. Force, no._

Tears streamed her face. She whimpered, "It hurts Obi . . ."

Obi-Wan breathed quickly, knowing they had no med kit since he dropped their emergency pack. He placed his hand upon hers, applying pressure to the wound, "I know, little one . . . just stay awake, it will be alright - "

E'lia grabbed his hand. She whispered weakly, "I'm okay. It's alright, Obi."

The blue eyes caught his, and Obi-Wan was struck with the reflection in them. They looked just like Eri'etta's; calm, solemn. They looked ready to die.

"No . . . no!" Obi-Wan shook his head, praying to the Force desperately, "No, please . . . please, not her too, _please_ . . ."

". . . I'll find my . . . my mommy. I'll be okay, Obi . . ."

Obi-Wan felt his lips trembling, holding the little girls hand tightly, "I'm sorry . . . I'm sorry, E'lia . . . I promised I'd save you, I promised you . . ."

"Remember? I am safe." E'lia smiled a little, "With you, Obi."

The girls breath was ragged and growing hollow. He would stay with her until the end. E'lia moved her hand in his, and he leaned close to hear her whisper, "Can . . . you s-sing?"

Obi-Wan nodded, the girl reaching for his tunic pants; he shifted, and she clutched them weakly. He knew this would be all. Obi-Wan managed through tears, the girl singing softly with him.

_"With sorrow, I'll live_  
_With sorrow, I'll die_  
_With sorrow, my love, _  
_Much sorrow, goodbye_

_"No sorrow, my love, _  
_I give unto thee_  
_Tomorrow, my love, _  
_I will live then for thee."_

E'lia's grip loosened and slipped, and Obi-Wan caught it . . . to find it limp.

A cry escaped the child in his arms, a wail he had not yet heard from her. Obi-Wan felt the tears on his face but was numb. In the haze of his vision, Qui-Gon shimmered in his eyes. Obi-Wan bit his lip, lashing out at his imagined Master, "Why? Why did you leave us here to die?"

The figure only stared at him. It was a figment, but Obi-Wan could not contain his anger. He screamed, "Answer me!"

A whistling wind took the phantom away, and the Padawan released a sob. He bowed his head before the tiny, still body and let the tears fall soundlessly.

He did nothing more.


End file.
